Seeds of beauty bloomed into woman prior to the wound. Stone of man laid its foundation for a mountain prior to the alone. Then came the rupture, the excommunication; the epitaph written on breath. What if love knew no limits? What if cruel histories had no hunger to repeat themselves? Damn Adam‘s rib for becoming the bone of contention with which the vicious would later pick their teeth. Damn the bombs of Eden when they exploded division into our consciousness.